The young girls and Sylvie ran under the rain without the protection of Ragnar''s magic.


    "Ragnar! Where are you!" Sylvie shouted. "We heard gunshots!"


    "Over here, lass! I''m okay!" The dvergar replied, climbing the hill out of the woods. "Get inside, you''re drenched!"


    "Mom is in the car with Cless! Go get her! Dear gracious! You''re wounded!"


    Sylvie tried to approach but Ragnar raised a hand. "Get inside now, you and your sisters! You are going to freeze!"


    Humans were too frail. He could see that the little ones were already shivering. Fortunately, Ragnarok didn''t come in the winter.


    ** SCREECH-ROAR ** ** RUMBLE **


    As if to remind them it was still alive and kicking, Jormungandr caused another earthquake.


    Ragnar almost lost his footing. Using his battle-ax as a crutch, he limped to the car. “Milady, are you okay?”


    Pointing at the baby, the woman answered, “Your lady is fine, lord Ragnar! How are mine?” Sylvie’s mother answered from the slit in the window.


    Ragnar chuckled and winced at the pain in his shoulder. Those guns were amazing weapons, he thought. “I was asking about you, actually. Lady Jane, may I escort you and my ward to the cottage?”


    Using his water-repelling spell again, he took Helisheidr and Jane to the cabin.


    “Is everyone okay?” Ragnar asked and scanned the room. There was a funny smell inside but nothing he deemed dangerous. He noticed the faint glow of embers in the fireplace. “Oh, good there’s a hearth. Let’s ignite it. {I invoke the flames of Muspelheim to do my bidding.}.” After he finished his chant, the fireplace ignited.


    “Ragnar,” Sylvie approached and whispered, “they were using drugs in here. Can’t you feel the smell? I don’t think it will be good for the girls to stay here even though it’s raining a deluge outside.”


    “Worry not, Sylvie. We dvergar burn tons of coal in our forges deep underground,” he boasted with pride. “We’d be dead if we couldn’t keep our air fresh. {Oh Sylph, ruler of air and wind, I beseech you to cleanse this house.}” Ragnar chanted as he waved his hands around, drawing runes in the air.


    Dvergar had affinities with darkness, earth, and fire. Those kinds of magic came easily for them. Light, water, and wind, not so much. That’s why he could command flames but for air magic, he had to plead.


    The funny smell vanished. The invisible wind spirit Ragnar conjured also tossed some dirt and debris outside, including the white crystal stones the previous occupants were consuming. After the spell ended, a drained Ragnar unceremoniously sat on the floor. He was afraid to break the couch.


    “You’re wounded! I think I saw a first-aid kit in the car,” Sylvie offered. “Let me fetch it for you.”


    “No! Don’t go out in this rain. Sit by the hearth and warm yourself. See if your sisters are fine. This is but a flesh wound. In a couple days I’ll be as good as new,” he lied.


    Ragnar examined his knee. The lead projectile went through and through but it wasn’t bleeding anymore. He would need to use another Core to heal himself, but he suspected these chunks of monster-borne crystallized mana wouldn’t be hard to come by in the following days. With the amount of magic being released in Midgard, this Realm would soon rekindle the mana pathways where Yggdrasil’s roots thread, or lay lines as some call them. When that happens monsters will spawn left and right. Ragnarok created too much miasma, caused too much suffering in this world.


    Sylvie shook her head and bit her lip. “You used to be an adventurer, but then you took an arrow to the knee. Fine, have it your way, master Lorekeper.”


    The triplet girls fell asleep next to the hearth. Jane brought Helisheidr to change her underclothes and drink some goat milk. All was well, they just needed to endure the last days of Ragnarok and hope the water level didn’t rise so much it would submerge the cottage. They were a good way uphill but there was another fifty to one hundred feet to climb if push came to shove.


    The druggie quartet came prepared. The pantry had lots of canned food and some perishables in the now-defunct fridge that didn''t smell too bad. Jane and Sylvie made everyone eat extra from the soon-to-be-spoiled food, leaving the preserved ones for later. Ragnar knew he would have to go hunting or foraging soon but he needed to heal his knee. Despite his bravado, it was a serious injury. He only remained functional after the combat because his body strengthening magic was still in place. He wanted to keep some of them but he had to use the Cores’ energy to heal himself.


    Like that, they spent three days in the cottage. The rain didn’t relent for a single minute. The titanic battle between the thunder God and Loki''s monstrous progeny reached a lull, but Ragnar feared it was just the calm before the storm.


    <hr>


    “Sylvie, I need to kill one of these farm animals,” Ragnar said. “We need food, and I can make use of its leather and bones. The world you knew is over. We’ll need weapons and food if we want to survive,” Ragnar explained his motivation. He needed to make sure Sylvie was up to the task of surviving in post-Ragnarok Midgard. The world was about to become harsh, brutal, and one would find no room to be queasy regarding a family’s survival. Kill when you must, flee if you can, fight if no other choice remains. They were females and more than half their group were defenseless children.


    The oceans had already covered the lowlands. The Wye flooded and it was slowly claiming Hereford. Farm animals fled the water and naturally sought higher ground. That brought a few cows, sheep, chickens, pigs, and goats to the hill.


    Not only they needed the food but these many animals would graze and trample the entire hill, removing the protective vegetation cover. Without it, they would be vulnerable to landslides. Culling the larger animals was a necessity.


    “I also need to scout the hill for a source of stone. I need to build a forge and reinforce the hill in some places. I’m afraid the earth is too softened by the rain. We don’t want a landslide.”


    He had a third reason to scout the hill, check if any monsters had spawned nearby. Especially down the slope, he threw the four bodies.


    “We need a little more meat in our diets. I know you don’t like to eat meat, but the alternatives you talked to me about are no longer accessible.”


    “Fine,” Sylvie relented with a sigh. “Just take care, okay? You don’t want to leave your princess alone.”


    “She has your family, Sylvie. I’ll be eternally grateful for how much you helped me take care of her. I’m going now.”


    He was a lord, a dvergar noble. That was worth crap now that Yggdrasil was dead and the Nine Realms as he knew would soon die. Ragnar couldn’t explain but he saw in Sylvie a kindred spirit. He thought of her as his equal, a librarian even though he now knew her job was just to sell books.


    He checked the hill for danger, going down the slope to give the four humans a proper burial. That would keep the corpses from rotting further and generating more miasma. After he used an Earth spell to purify the soil and further reduce the miasma in the region, he went around the hill checking for herbs and any other issues. He found no ready source of stone, but three places where the soil needed shoring otherwise it would slide soon.If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    He couldn’t even call that a hunt. The cow died with a dagger in its head. Ragnar lifted the carcass and carefully brought it back to the cottage. There he skinned and dressed the carcass, preparing the leather for tanning and cutting the chunks of meat.


    During dinner, he made a big announcement.


    “I’m going to teach you magic,” he said and was drowned by the squealing of the triplets. They were the most interested in his magic. After the excitement died down a little, he explained. “When I left to get the cow earlier, I found two monsters. Wargs, a kind of giant wolf. That’s bad. They are strong and if they are around, we can expect more monsters. You need to defend themselves.”


    The prophecy foretold that no dvergar would survive Ragnarok. Princess Helisheidr was the only one assured to be spared that fate. Ragnar didn’t know if by coming to Midgard with her he was also severed from the fate of his kin but he wouldn’t bet the survival of the “jewels of Myrkheim” on it. He needed to train these women so not only they could survive, but also care for the little princess in case he died.


    The next day, he dragged the car up into the parking lot next to the cottage. That vehicle was a bounty of metal and would serve him well. He also cut down some trees to turn into charcoal later. Now he only needed a source of stone.


    For a dvergar, if there’s ground there’s plenty. Splitting his time between teaching the girls, foraging for food, and tending the livestock, Ragnar spent two weeks mining stone and hunting monsters on the other side of the hill. With the dvergar’s magic, prowess, and affinities, he reinforced the cottage and built an enclosed stone bark for the livestock. They needed the animals as much as the critters needed them.


    He also built a smithy next to the cottage. Using magic to dry the wood and make charcoal, he smelted the car and forged weapons for them. Lightweight swords, shields, and some pieces of armor for the women like vambraces, breastplates, and greaves, among others.


    A month went by during which the world serpent phased more and more into the real world. Thor was winning, but at the cost of his life. The constant rumble of thunder and the tremors along with the ceaseless rain drenched everyone''s mood.


    <hr>


    “Four main factors for successful spellcasting exist. The first three are external, and they are a clear image, proper incantation, and practice,” he lectured. “You must know exactly what you want to achieve and how you want to achieve. You also need to believe with your whole being that was possible, even if you are attempting to do something that defies logic. This is the clear image. You might think that the image is internal as it happens in your head, but not to the magic.


    “Magic has laws, and the most important one is the law of sympathy. Alike things beget alike things. If I want to bring forth fire, I need to bring into my words and gestures elements that resonate with fire. The chants I know evoke Muspelheim, the land of fire giants led by Surtr. The gestures and runes are important as well, “he moved his hands making some signs, and drew a glowing rune in the air. “These hand signs and rune represent fire. When I combine them with the chant I use on the hearth, fire comes up. You can also use components that fire likes. Sulfur, coal, a burning ember. These sympathetic elements are what we call proper incantation.


    “Finally, practice makes perfect. As you repeat the same spell over and over, you’ll gain mastery and a deep understanding of it and the related components. These are the external factors. Those that don’t relate directly to magic.


    “The fourth factor, however, is the sacrifice. Magic is not without its cost. Great magics demand bigger sacrifices, lesser cantrips demand inconsequential things. The most basic sacrifice a spellcaster can make is its own internal energy. When I cast my spells, I give up some of the energy I collected inside my being. Some call this internal energy your magic pool, or your mana core. That’s good for the mental image but also superstition. You don’t have a ‘pool’ of magic inside you, neither a true Core like some of the monsters. The energy is inside your whole being.


    “Some other sources of sacrifice exist. You can sacrifice a helpless or voluntary creature to empower your magic. Or something that holds a great power inside it. A monster Core, for example, is crystallized magic, and because of that is a good sacrifice for some low to average complexity spells.”


    He made them do some basic magic circulation exercises children used to learn the feel of their internal energy. Jane likened the exercises to some Midgard disciplines, like yoga or tai chi chuan. Maybe they were leftovers of magical traditions that died down as Midgard lost access to magic but remained as mere exercises or martial arts.


    Since humans never felt magic before, these basic exercises took another two weeks to produce any results.


    “Congratulations, young Kelly!” The Lorekeeper gushed. “You awakened your magical affinity!”


    She was the first of the women to develop the ability to sense their inner magic. True to her name, Kelly awakened an affinity with body strengthening. The young girl was lifting the side of the couch with a single hand.


    “No way!” Sylvie gasped. Kelly giggled while her two sisters pouted with envy.


    Ragnar reached and held the furniture. “Now, now, don’t overdo it. You don’t have enough energy to--”


    Kelly fainted. Sylvie held her before she could hit her head on the floor.


    “--maintain this for too long,” Ragnar sighed. “The lass will be alright after a good night’s sleep. She might have a migraine, though. That ought to teach you young‘uns a lesson, listen to your elders. I told you to not overdo it!”


    “A migraine is not a minor thing!” Sylvie protested.


    “Turn ‘er around, back facing me. Let me check her.” He put his hand on the unconscious girl’s chest and checked her energy. “Aye, a migraine might not be minor but it is what happens. It is good she learns this lesson now, instead of when a monster is trying to eat her. Know your limits.”


    He glared at the two twins and the girls nodded frantically, “We understood loud and clear, uncle Ragnar!” They said in unison.


    ** SCREECH! ** - ** RUMBLE! **


    The whole cottage shook with another earthquake. Dust and debris fell from the roof. The sound of metal striking the stone floor rang from the kitchen.


    “This one was stronger!” Sylvie said. “Mom, are you fine in there?” She shouted toward the kitchen.


    “Yes! Just some pans that fell from the counter!” Jane shouted back.


    ** WHOOSH! **


    The sound of ocean waves crashing came from outside. Rushing to the second floor, they looked out the window. A massive tsunami swept over the flooded lowlands.


    Ragnar quickly plucked two Cores from his pocket. “Accursed Loki-spawn! Jormungandr finally died! Ladies, brace yourselves! It’s going to hit us!”


    The children screamed. Helisheidr woke up and cried.


    Sylvie tried to control them. “Everyone, under the first floor beds like we trained! Ragnar!”


    “Get Helisheidr with you! I’m going to cast a stone strengthening and water-repelling spell but it will take my entire focus!” He barked and started to chant. “{Oh spirits of the Earth and Stone, Heed my call! Strengthen Hearth and Home so my Clan endures the coming storm. Honor our ancient covenant and come to my aid in times of need. Make it so the walls and ground underneath my residence are as sturdy as bedrock! Steadfast like Heimdall’s vigil, Unyielding like Tyr’s Justice, untarnished like Baldr’s Virtue, and as inexorable as Odin’s reach!}”


    He focused on the whole hill. As his consciousness became one with the land, he saw the size of the tsunami. He knew then their hopes were crushed. Seven hundred feet wasn’t enough to keep them above water. Not the nine hundred of the nearby hill. The nearby village of Bishopstone was crushed in mere moments. Murky water and giant waves crashed all around his perception. A few hills and knolls were still above water but these too were bound to be washed away.


    Ragnar pushed deep into the ground with the last dregs of magical energy. “{Rise and harden!}” He grunted, oblivious to the unintentional innuendo. Desperate, the dvergar saw only one choice. If the women were to survive, he would gladly embrace his species’ fate.


    Princess Helisheidr had to survive, no matter what. His love for Nidavellyr and honor demanded it. The princess was the key to revive the dvergar’s dynasty and their golden city.


    He took a dagger and pressed the tip over his heart. “{Drink my lifeblood, stone, and become one with me! Mimir! Witness me! The last son of Nidavellir dies today! Blood and ruin! May the past perish so the future may bloom!}”


    Without a single iota of doubt, he pushed the dagger into his heart. Ragnar, Lorekeeper of king Hreidmar’s court, and last living male dvergar in all the Nine Realms died on the same day Jormungandr killed and poisoned Midgard.


    <hr>


    The death of a world heralded the birth of the next. WIthout Yggdrasil to support the Nine Realms, the dimensions drifted and crashed. Asgard and Vanaheim merged and fused together. In the future, that place would be known as the Celestial Realm. Muspelheim, Helheim, and Niflheim also collapsed onto one another. A land of fire, death, and ice in equal amounts was born. The humans of Midgard called that place the Infernal Realm.


    Finally, Midgard absorbed Alfheim, Myrkheim, and Jotunheim. The world humans called Earth grew in size and importance. The landmasses combined and the world’s geography changed. The next thousands of years would see Giants and elves both light and dark clashing against the human survivors. The technology of civilized Earth was all but forgotten. A world of swords and magic was born.


    Princess Helisheidr survived the cataclysm. She chose to grow and live as a human, hiding her dvergar heritage. Along with her adoptive mother and sisters, she met other survivors, married, and had a daughter that shared the same hazel eyes as her.


    Generation after generation of women inherited Myrheim’s jewels and the fate of a Realm. They taught magic to their fellow humans and the hill where they lived was forevermore known as Witch Hill. Until one day, religious zealots torched the place and killed the Lady of the Hill, one of the heroes that killed the entity known only as “The Devil”. Her baby daughter survived the inferno, crawling over burning embers. Fate conspired to let her live, although she was forever disfigured by the ordeal.


    The girl’s name was the same as the alias Ragnar chose for princess Helisheidr centuries ago. Cless would become an adventurer, forming the most peculiar adventurer''s guild. One day in the future she would be known as the “Queen with no Mirrors”.


    But this is not her tale [1].